A poem by Alexander Pushkin – Pouchkine, Pooshkin (1799-1837), in English translation

The senseless years’ extinguished mirth and laughter

Oppress me like some hazy morning-after.

But sadness of days past, as alcohol –

The more it age, the stronger grip the soul.

My course is dull. The future’s troubled ocean

Forebodes me toil, misfortune and commotion.

But no, my friends, I do not wish to leave;

I’d rather live, to ponder and to grieve –

And I shall have my share of delectation

Amid all care, distress and agitation:

Time and again I’ll savor harmony,

Melt into tears about some fantasy,

And on my sad decline, to ease affliction,

May love yet show her smile of valediction.

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